Under Sun and Sky
by Apokalyptik
Summary: Some time has passed since the destruction of Alduin, and the Zekk the Dragonborn finds his life in Skyrim to have become tiresome. His road leads him to Solstheim where he is forced to deal with a new set of threats bigger than what he first anticipated. Rated T for some violence and later eventual slash.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey! Before you start reading I just want to say a few words. This is old; two years old in fact. On top of that, it's my very first fanfic pretty much. Do not expect top quality, just sayin'. It's been collecting dust on my hard drive for quite a while now but I finally got it going again and I figured I'd upload it here. There are currently 7 finished chapters and I will upload all of them after I've checked them through for spelling mistakes and the like. Thank you, you may proceed, hope someone out there enjoys it._

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With a last swing of the arm, he let the dark blade sweep down and cut through the skin of the robed culprit. The man screamed in pain, hands clutching tightly around a torn-open chest, twitching uncontrollably before loudly collapsing on the ground, landing firmly next to his matching companion.

Zekk frowned as he sheathed his dagger and wiped a splatter of blood off his eye. He looked down on the two bodies lying in the snow that had so suddenly lashed out at him at the road. They were clad in almost identical brown robes, covered from head to toe with the rough fabric giving absolutely no indication whatsoever to their identity as not even a bit of skin was visible. Thick gloves of the same structure covered their hands, decorated with a bright, bone-like material that he figured had the function of physical protection.

Apart from the strange clothing, there was one thing in particular that caught the attention of the dunmer. The faces of the two - men, mer, beasts, whatever they were – lay concealed by a strange mask. Zekk crouched down to get a better look at it. It was a large mask. White in color, stained with dirt and blood from the battle. He reached out his hand to trace his fingers along the many patterns carved into the surface of the material, which he reckoned was the same type made for the armor on the robes. Rough cuts formed circles around where the eyes were, deep enough to leave only a tiny space in the middle for the person to see through. Tilting his head slightly, he tried to make out its resemblance. The mask itself had sharp features, the edges of it shaped into points seeming to grow out from it, sharpened enough to alone be able to pierce skin. Zekk realized it must be some kind of a skull, when he more closely inspected the similar formations near the mouth-area where the spikes clearly looked like long teeth.

Out of mere curiosity, he searched for the belts to hold the hood together and untied them to remove the mask, seeing the face of one of his two attackers for the first time, and he let out a sigh. The grey-blue skin and crimson eyes couldn't fool even the boldest of nords. Knowing now that he had fought a dunmer, he removed the mask of the other person to see if they were of the same kind. His assumption was proven correct as the hood unfastened.

A quick search through the many layers of the robes revealed little value to be kept and the elf was just about to rise to his feet when he discovered a neatly folded note tucked into a satchel at one of the elves' sides. He unfolded it in an instant, eyes scanning the parchment and reading the writing on it.

"Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Zekk before he reaches Solstheim.

Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased."

Zekk raised a brow as a puzzle began to form inside his mind. Two seemingly like-minded individuals in strange clothing were sent to execute him to the advantage of their mighty leader. What was he to make of this, other than that these two dunmer were members of a cult? A cult ruled by someone living on Solstheim. He stopped for a moment to think, and let the name escape his mouth in a vague whisper. Solstheim… The name sounded familiar, though he couldn't place a finger on where he had heard it before. His thoughts turned suddenly to times long ago, to standing outside a weathered farmhouse, a hard wind bringing cold flakes of show in a young face, and a mother carefully embracing him as her lips moved in a calm rhythm. It's almost as cold as on Solstheim.

A smile spread to his face as he sat there between the two bloody corpses, stunned by the sudden memory. Though he quickly rose to his feet and drew a long breath before he could wrap his head around it. Well then, he thought, bothered but yet strangely amused at the idea of being the target of an obscure cult. He supposed it was off to Windhelm. After all, he had enough people wanting his head on a plate and the least he could do was to get rid of them before they got any more ideas, or investigate what everything was about at least. Throwing the two masks bluntly on the ground, he turned and began walking towards the road again, to the spot where he had first been ambushed by the attackers. He looked around for his horse, which was nowhere to be seen. The mer grunted loudly. The poor beast must have fled at the sight of the spell-wielding robed men with their large skull-shaped masks in the instant they appeared.

Well, since the mer wasn't up to walking all the way to Windhelm from Falkreath Hold so close to dusk, he ran up one of the hills, scouting around the woods hoping to catch a glimpse of the animal through the trees and branches. Luckily it took only a couple of minutes before he heard neighing nearby, and jogging towards the direction of the sound, he was pleased to find his brown horse standing peacefully by a large pond busy munching on the green grass under its hooves. Zekk shook his head unable to hide a slight smile as he approached the creature, who didn't seem to mind his presence at all.

"Alright, you coward," he mumbled, taking hold of the reins, gently patting the head of the horse before leading it through the forest back to the road. "Come on." The horse huffed in disapproval of having to leave the tasty grass, but the elf only responded with another pat on the head. He didn't dislike the animals, though found them difficult and unpredictable. They were a useful asset for a traveling adventurer such as himself, but other than carrying supplies and equipment, he didn't fancy them too much. If it weren't for the fact that you could scarcely walk between the holds Skyrim, he would never have acquired one in the first place. This fellow hadn't even got a name. He had bought him but three weeks ago, tired of riding carriages and boats (and occasionally walking) for the last months since his other horse died. The beast had been bought for merely a five hundred gold from an old stable near Riften, probably used to carrying his junk by now, spending most of its time waiting outside cities not even riding that much in between the breaks. And he hadn't even asked for its name. Zekk didn't deny that he felt a bit guilty at the thought of that, but he wasn't one for names. He simply couldn't come up with one, even if he owed the horse at least that.

Once up the steep hill and the many moss-clad rocks, Zekk proceeded to mount the steed, seeing how it didn't quite matter if the ground was fairly solid to ride on anyway.

After a while, he could spot the road ahead of him and motioned to increase the speed. The sky had begun to fade to a warm orange tint when the wind finally roared in his ear and the world flew by like the passing of a wave. Tightening his grasp of the reins, he leaned forward and closed his eyes for a few seconds, simply enjoying the feeling of speed and fresh air on his skin as the brown steed lashed past the many trees and bushes by the small gravel road in the middle of the forest. The riding part wasn't that unpleasant, Zekk thought with a smirk. Nor was it difficult, as long as you kept on good terms with the horse and a firm grasp of the reins. If there was anything he enjoyed especially about traveling, it was these calm and undisturbed moments where he could just feel like there wasn't a bother in the world.

Concentrating his thoughts more on riding, the mer navigated the horse to change direction when the road split, choosing the way he knew led towards Riverwood. To think, that he would come to know this land so well. After all, he had only been here for a little more than six months and he practically knew the roads like the back of his hand, even some parts of the wilds weren't that hard to recognize anymore. After more or less roaming the wilds and the rest of the lands like he had in his previous adventures, he supposed it was normal for one to grow so accustomed to surroundings like he had. Peculiar that a country he thought so little of would become his home and sanctuary, for him to ever seek to discover secrets and stories from, on account of himself. Perhaps he had a knack for these kinds of things. Probably, he thought, since he got into exploring in the first place.

It wasn't long until the skies were a deep blue and the hills and mountains to his side lay in darkness, unreached by the spots of billions of glimmering pearls high above, or the dim lights of lanterns far in the distance. Upon turning his horse around the mountainside and seeing them, Zekk slowed down to a trot. He had been riding in a canter for what he reckoned to be a good bit more than an hour up until now. Seeing how he'd reached his destination without trouble since the light ambush, he figured he could enter the small town calmly.

The river flowing from the lake made a soothing, splashing sound as the water hit the surface of nearby rocks and cliffsides. The air was chilly, but not enough to feel unpleasantly cold when it passed through your nose. Spring had finally taken hold. Moving slowly in the same direction as the running water, he soon approached the village. There stood a guard by the city entrance, who almost seemed startled at the dark figure emerging from the shadows of the road, though immediately relaxing when she saw the face of the rider who proceeded to jump off his horse and greet the guard now standing stretched and confidently smiling.

"Always a good evening knowing you're around, Dragonborn." The guard respectfully stated, brushing off some dirt that had stained the yellow cloth on her Whiterun armor. Zekk gave the woman a polite glance as he grabbed the rope to tie his horse to a tree, like he had grown used to doing every time he stopped in Riverwood. It wasn't really the most courteous way to do it and probably not even allowed either, though no one had complained to him so far about it. He supposed he had earned that little advantage from the guards, among many other things that came with saving the world single-handedly. At this, he smirked halfheartedly. He had become a symbol of legend among the inhabitants of Skyrim, a hero to respect and to thank with their very lives. This made him uncomfortable most of the time. In his life he was never one to appreciate being in the center of attention. He had been an unknown, silent passer-by whom no one paid attention to. And look at him now, making even city guards pay close attention to their manners. He was too accustomed to being recognized everywhere that he didn't really care anymore, or know how to care, at least not at the moment too busy smiling at the guard's behavior. As long as he was left alone when he wanted to be left alone, and able to relax when he could, he figured he would remain content.

The village lay silent in the night. No one except Zekk himself and a patrolling guard a small distance away could be seen walking the stone-clad street at this hour. The mill was still turning with the ever-lasting flow of the river, but all windows were dark and doors were shut except for a large, sturdy building at the outskirts of town, where the lights shone bright and the sign hung high.

Upon entering the well-known inn, he was greeted by the sound of laughing and cheering, as three men sat by the large hearth, each positioned on a chair facing the flames. The three of them each held a large mug in hand, occasionally raising them to their faces or knocking it against another in loud exclaims with a rosy smile on their faces, all while singing and laughing together in their intoxicated state. Zekk smiled to himself as he caught the soft scent of newly baked bread and the light smoke from the warm fire the men sat by. It was a merry company. They all looked up as the elf closed shut the door behind him, eyes widening in realization.

"Dragonborn!" exclaimed the bearded one while dramatically raising his mug to his head while the others did the same in a cheering. He recognized him as Alvor, the town's blacksmith. The others sat on each side of him, Embry and Hod.

The mer smiled warmly and placed his bag on one of the empty tables near the entrance. "Evening, gentlemen!" he greeted them, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"

"Even better than yesterday!" all of them seemed to agree as they all cheered once more to this remark.

"Say, why don't you join us for a drink?" the one of the men asked as Zekk leaned over the table and started to dig in his bag.

"Show us a shout!" requested Embry, which only made the Dragonborn laugh mildly. He cast a gaze in the direction of the grumpy bartender, who stood behind the counter with a mug in his hand wiping it clean with a piece of cloth. He gave an acknowledging nod towards the mer, lips in a thin line as he again fixed his gaze on the three friends.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," Zekk started, finally reaching what he was looking for and looking up and the three waiting humans, showing a regretful smile as he explained "I only came inside to rent a room." Which was true, he wasn't going to bed just yet and didn't really feel like getting drunk with three nord locals either. This left the company a bit disappointed, but it was barely noticeable as they were all in such a good mood to show it.

"Bah, let the man mind his own business", slurred Hod, with the others turning towards him in anticipation. "He's probably got dragons to slay!" And so the cheering and laughing began anew as they all rose their mugs and turned towards Zekk once more.

"To the Dragonborn!" yelled the blacksmith and the others mimicked him while dashing their beverages together and enjoying a long drink from the metal mugs all while the elf walked past them, bag in hand, chuckling at them before dropping ten gold coins on the wooden surface of the counter. They clattered as they hit the table and Orgnar seemed pleased to hear the sound, and so swept them into his hand looking up at the elf.

"Usual room, then?" he murmured, devoting more of his attention towards then gold rather than to addressing the elf. Zekk nodded, ignoring the man's lack of interest and turned his gaze towards the door to his left, which stood so slightly ajar that only a strip of firelight could escape into the small room.

"I'll be leaving this inside until I come back in" he said lifting his bag slightly to indicate what he meant. The man before him grunted something in response before reaching for one of the mugs again, grabbing the not-so-very-clean linen rag and beginning to wipe the insides of the containers, nonchalantly dismissing him. The elf sent him a last glance before turning to move towards the door. With one hand, he pushed it open and peered inside, stepping in. It looked exactly as it always had, with a narrow bed tightly tucked between two wooden walls and a worn chest at the foot of it.

Zekk casually threw the bag on the chair before seating himself on the bed, tucking away his Daedric dagger from his side and laying it next to him on the table. Some parts of it glowed red in the dim light of the room, giving an almost intimidating impression to him. He supposed that was just one of the powers it possessed. The elf leaned back into the soft cow hide that lay on top of a layer of hay. Riding for such long intervals always made his neck so tense, for whatever reason. Closing his eyes, he let each muscle in his body relax as he tried to filter out the chaos of thoughts in his mind. After the days' incident his mind lay in a mist of strange images, quick passing sequences of red liquid flying through the air, sparkling like rubies in the light of a burning flame. Robed figures bearing the same masks as the ones he had killed. A majestic structure rising high beyond the distant fog…

No, that wouldn't do. He had intended to take a walk to clear off his mind before going inside to rest, and that was exactly what he was going to do. Now with the men having the time of their life just outside his door, he figured he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

He jumped up and quickly rose to his feet, which he then realized was a grave mistake when his head started to spin and ache upon lifting it from the pillow. By Azura, had he really been that exhausted from the trip? Or had he forgotten to eat again… It didn't matter. He left the room and headed outside, leaving his weapon behind. He doubted anything would happen in a small village like this, and in case those damned cultists would show up to chop his head off again he had more than enough skill with flames to turn each of them into a burning pile of ash.

The air was as cool as it had been before, and he inhaled deeply to keep it inside his lungs for a bit until letting out his breath. Gazing up at the starry sky, he stepped down the wooden stairs, wrapping his dark cloak around him as he turned right down the path, heading in the direction of the stone bridge that went over the small river. Masser and Secunda were close together in the sky, barely touching the dark blue horizon where the mountains gathered yonder. He heard crickets somewhere in the flowing grass as he walked down the road, stopping silent when they noticed his presence. The light wind brushed against his cheek as it followed his steps on the road and causing the brushes to rustle calmly from its touch. Zekk leaned against the railing once he reached the bridge, a tired gaze fixed on some unknown point on the land down the river. Some of the light from two nearby road lanterns helped his eyes adjust to the darkness quicker as he stood silently on the bridge, surrounded by the soothing sounds of running water and crickets.

He was bothered. As much as he enjoyed the feeling of solitude and its advantages, he still had a lingering feeling of being alone. But that wasn't directly the issue, since he'd always been the lone wolf even before Skyrim, way back in his childhood in Cheydinhaal he would run out to the gardens of the area spending his time by himself climbing trees and watching animals. Sure, he would often see the other children playing in the streets, but he had never really wanted to join them. He didn't dislike the company of others, though had never really cherished the thought of it either. Now, he didn't quite know what he thought. The threat of Alduin diminished and the world back to its normal state, him having fulfilled his "great destiny" as a hero, knowing that he had accomplished what he were supposed to do… He frowned slightly. Perhaps he simply didn't know what to do now. He tried to settle his mind on this, but that ever-present longing for like-minded company refused to leave him once he noticed the silent stillness of the night again.

He stood like that a while, contemplating on whether or not to pay attention to his inner thoughts, until his eyelids practically shut themselves from sleepiness and he forced himself away from the railing lousing back to the inn. The elf expected to hear the same drunken yelling and laughing when he entered, but to his surprise he didn't. Alvor seemed to have left the company, which now consisted of the two remaining men sitting next to each other, Hod ranting about all kinds of problems while Embry gave him occasional friendly claps on the back. Most of it sounded like gibberish and something regarding his wife which Zekk was too tired to hear. None of them seemed to notice him as he walked past, probably too immersed in Hod's sentimental moment.

After closing the door and removing his cloak, which he lazily threw on his bag on the chair, he collapsed onto the bed not minding the hay sticking up from the covers and not caring to untie his high ponytail. And so he finally relaxed, concentrating on the creaking noise of the wooden house and the flickering of candle light (and the occasional voice from the men outside) he fell silent, into a deep but troubled sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He set out early the next morning, just in time for the sun to start peering over the land in the east. He reckoned that if he spent most of the day riding with relative speed and staying on the road, that he should reach Windhelm at the end of the day. Though he wasn't really in a hurry, he wanted to make good use of his time instead of loitering about, at least not until he reached his destination. Shuddering slightly as he stepped into the chill morning air, he very much hoped his current enchanted master robes and cloak were enough to keep him from freezing his backside off in Eastmarch. He had many times wondered how on Mundus the nords could live in this chilly climate.

Untying his poor horse from the tree he wondered if the beast had gotten anything to eat since last evening, and was just about to grab something out of his bag when his gaze fell on the ground below his feet. He frowned in confusion. Hadn't there been grass here before? Upon further investigation, he noticed there was grass, green and thick, though closest to the tree in the shape of a clumsy circle with the same radius ad the horse's rope, the ground was more or less bare all the way into the stem. Gaping, he looked up at the animal who gave him a curious stare, huffing patiently as the elf trembled with laughter. It was a miracle the beast could even move.

He picked up the speed only after exiting Riverwood as to not disturb any of the inhabitants, and began thinking of what he should do once he came to Windhelm. He remembered the note mentioned a ship, so he decided the docks would be his first stop. It had been a while since he had visited the city, months at least as the mer disliked it greatly. Though, change had reached Windhelm as well. Following the end of the civil war, he wondered how the dunmer were holding up. If the new jarl had given them the right to live and roam the streets as they had the moral right to do, or, gods forbid, if they were still living in that slum of a district. It seemed very unlikely that would be the case, with the Empire being a much more open nation than that of the Stormcloaks. He guessed their tolerance and reputation was what had led them to their victory. Zekk had not interfered, nor had he ever wanted to. He preferred to stay as far away from political troubles as he could, and besides, it seemed to have worked out the way he hoped it would anyway. The Empire won their Skyrim in the end, which was the best alternative for everyone.

An hour passed as he rode down the different variables of the road, and he could begin to spot the city of Whiterun far ahead, rising up on a hill in the middle of plain and rocky fields with its wall built sturdily around the city on the height. It was still a far distance away, and he could see the road running past where the ground lifted upwards towards the hold capital, the road he would have to follow, going south and then turning east by the edge of the great mountain. The whole trip to that very edge didn't take more than 30 minutes, and he soon found himself riding east, already seeing change in the scenery far ahead as he advanced up the road. He saw the ruins of a large fort built into the stretched far at each side of the river. The elf hoped that whatever lead of thugs and bandits he had chased from the He slowed down a good deal when passing the great stone structure, cautiously listening for any sign of life inside the walls. But the watchtower lay silent, and there was no fire to warm the broken cooking stand just outside the reinforced door, only the ever-flowing water running down the stream.

The river came to a halt however, where the water suddenly fell downwards in a roaring waterfall, perfectly along the road the mer was traveling. Looking down to where the water violently splashed against a cover of sharp rocks in white foam, he felt a slight nausea at the sight of the steep cliff edge merely yards away. Keeping the slow pace, he steered the horse as close to the opposite side of the road as he could hoping there was no one around to see him as he practically pushed himself against the wall. Narrowing his eyes he turned his gaze forward to again inspect his surroundings, and to admire the view. Concealed behind a slight tint of blue, the high mountain tops stretched like a band of sharp teeth along the border of Skyrim's east region, carefully wrapping it in a protected valley. Where there weren't cliffs and rocks covering the ground, high pine trees were scattered like moss upon the hills and peaks below.

The road came to a turn, and then continued down the hill. His gaze traveled across the world in hope to see Windhelm, but the city still lay behind a mountain and enough trees to hide it from his view. Wondering what time it was, he heard his own stomach growl. The sun stood high in the sky, or, as high as it could manage to climb here in the north part of the continent, and he decided upon seeing how the road leveled with the river once again, that it was time for a break.

Reaching the water, he dismounted his horse that neighed happily at the sight of the grass growing on the shore. Throwing the light bag off his shoulders he opened it, carefully dragging out a small sack out of it. A traveler couldn't manage bringing full meals on their journeys, so he had to sate his appetite with a loaf of bread and cheese, washed down with some cheap mead. Though, since everything appears tastier when you're hungry, the meal was a pleasurable one and Zekk noted his increase in strength almost immediately, taking another sip from the brown bottle.

As he was leaning his weight on one of the small old wall-like railings that lined parts of the road's edge, just having finished his adventurer's feast, his right ear twitched slightly upon catching a sound of something. The elf turned his head toward the noise, body slightly tensed now that he listened for whatever had caused the sound. A moment passed, and then he heard it once more. It sounded like a voice, yes, it was most definitely a woman's voice, shouting and yelling something beyond comprehension.

Curious to what was happening and worried whether the person was okay, he rose and ran up the hill to where the road turned when suddenly someone ran into him. The collision had such force that he was knocked to the ground. His lungs emptied as his back smashed hard against the rocks beneath him and the weight of the person falling on top of him doubling the impact. The figure quickly rose to her feet screaming "Watch out!" and Zekk became aware of two wolves sprinting towards where he was lying. Drawing his dagger he lashed out his arm, burying the metal in the chest of the first one as it was jumping to bite him in the neck and then shoving it aside. Pushing himself off the ground, he dodged the other animal by mere inches as it flung past him. Worried it might attack the woman he quickly spun around, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead the wolf stopped abruptly, angered by the elf avoiding its attack. Feeling a tingling heat in his chest, he allowed the energy to flow through his left arm and soon a bright burning fire was licking the tips of his fingers. He threw the hand forward, igniting the wolf, sending it whining and turning in pain as the fire burned its skin. Sensing the opportunity, Zekk kicked the beast to the ground and snapped its neck with a firm stomp. Seeing it twitch one last time after completely stopping to move, he dragged the burning carcass off the road and into the dirt where the fire couldn't reach the grass.

He heard a noise behind him, but upon turning around he saw nothing. That was, until a something hit his head which forced him to look upwards and thus noticing the woman high up in one of the pine trees, struggling with her dress that had gotten itself stuck on a branch. She was swearing and grunting as she climbed down. When she finally took a leap from the lowest branch and landed on the ground her hair was covered in branches and dirt and the dark green dress was ripped at the edge.

"Damned creatures!" the girl exclaimed in anger, breathing heavily as she leaned to place her hands on her knees, obviously exhausted. Zekk sheathed his blade and inspected her. She was of human kind, seemingly young though he wasn't sure he could tell whether or not she was Imperial, Breton, or Nord… Then again she was quite tall, so maybe it was one of the latter. He had no idea, really. Humans all looked the same to him. She finally looked up at him and to the mer's surprise with an annoyed frown on her face rather than one of gratitude. "What?" she spit out. He realized he had been staring at her for a while and took a step forward as to approach her.

"Are you-"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine" she interrupted, waving one arm in the air as to dismiss the topic completely which stunned the mer a little. He shrugged it off however, simply muttering a "sorry for saving your life" before turning to walk back down the hill, not noticing the woman's face turning red as she looked up again.

"I'm sorry" she said with a sigh, voice filled with genuine guilt, and the elf lifted an eyebrow at her as she straightened back up.

Seeing the girl's current state he realized she probably didn't mean to appear so rude towards him. He kept his face straight however, giving her a stern look as he turned around expectantly and crossed his arms.

"I should thank you", she admitted and Zekk smiled in return, eyes turning friendly again.

"What were you doing out here on foot anyway?" was the reply. The woman shook her head.

"I'm not" she pointed down of the road. "The wolves came running at me when I was riding my carriage." And she sighed once more. "…which I'm not sure how much of the stuff were kept intact because it fell when the horse ran away." When the elf responded only with confused silence, she explained further, "I'm a merchant. Or…" There was a pause, and she grimaced, "… _Apprentice._ "

"Apprentice?" the elf echoed, not aware there was such a thing as merchants hiring apprentices. What would they do, learn how to sell a vase? What scholarship was there in that? But then again, perhaps that was just another Skyrim thing he didn't understand.

"Yes well, they like to call me that anyway." A frown lingered on her face for a couple of seconds, appearing stuck on the thought of whoever 'they' were as her head was turned away from him. He patiently waited for her to continue. "I'm delivering stuff to Whiterun, to the inn there", her voice was more solid now and no longer disturbed by her heavy breathing. "And I'm already late, now I've got to fix this as well."

There was another pause as the young woman rubbed her forehead. Zekk pitied the girl. From what he could see she looked no older than twenty which wasn't far from himself. He couldn't help to think she acted younger than she looked, however. Even if he didn't know her it was obvious he'd help her in regards of the situation. "I could lend you a hand."

She looked up in surprise. "You'd do that? I mean- thank you, but-", she trailed off, and something that would resemble a laugh escaped her lips "- if it wasn't for you I'd surely be dead."

The elf noticed his lips turning to a smirk. "You sure about that? You were up in that tree in an instant."

"Oh and look how that turned out", she snorted and gestured at her dress. "Don't look at me like that!" She had noticed the elf raising an eyebrow at her sudden care for her clothes. "It was my favourite."

They both started walking down the road.

"How far is it?" the dunmer proceeded to ask as they advanced around the edge of the cliff.

"As far as I can run", she chucked, and then added; "Not far. Just down this hill and you should see it just about-"

The young woman stopped suddenly, and then leapt into a run. Startled, the elf followed her worried she might get in trouble. Though, when he looked ahead on the road he noticed the carriage. She approached it, ranting "no, no, no, no…" as she walked around it. It lay tipped to the side with its contents of food and supplies scattered in the dirt of the road, boxes and all. "Look at this! She will have my head when she sees this." She grunted, hands covering her face in despair.

Apart from ruined vegetables and broken bottles, Zekk noticed blood upon the gravel road. Curious and alerted, he took a few steps around the carriage to notice a dagger and the carcass of another wolf. The dagger was a plain steel one, and it was covered in the blood of the beast.

"Is this yours?" Zekk asked the girl, who looked up at him dumbstruck for a moment before realizing what he was talking about.

"Oh, thank the gods!" She flung up and rushed over to where he was, diving for the dagger. The elf had to back a step to avoid getting pushed again. The girl grabbed the blade firmly and pressed its flat side gently against her chest, not minding the blood smearing all over the fabric of her dress. He was a great deal surprised. A wolf may not seem like a difficult foe compared to all the monsters and creatures of Tamriel, but they could easily tear off the flesh from unaware travelers in a single bite, if not less. She'd obviously got some skill with a weapon, and he hadn't expected that from her role as a traveling merchant. Well, he thought. Everyone's got hidden talents.

After a while, the girl rose to her feet, having calmed herself to melancholic silence. The mer almost wondered if she had been praying, sitting hunched over with the weapon like that. Maybe it had belonged to a loved one.

"As you could see, I managed to kill one", she tucked the dagger under the belt on her dress. "…until I noticed the others. Then my horse ran away, and the carriage flipped, and I ran away…" She waved her arm in a continuous gesture as to recite the more recent events.

"So the horse ran loose", he began, puckering his lips ever so slightly as he considered the matter. "It can't be that far away. Believe me. And about this" he started, slowly pacing around the carriage inspecting it carefully. ", much of the food might be ruined, and the carriage is flipped but it's certainly not broken."

After all, it wasn't. Or, it didn't look like it to him. And he didn't like when people worried over something that could be fixed. "We just need to lift it up. No use crying over spilled mead."

"This is a lot of spilled mead." She mumbled in response. "And wine, and ale, and oh those rare bottles of Argonian ale Hulda told me to be so careful about!" she suddenly cried and knelt down to pick up the shards of the dark bottle. "Only one remaining. She is really going to have my head now."

"Hulda you say?" asked the elf, recognizing the name "I know her. She knows of me, anyway" he added with a snicker. The woman looked up at him with a sarcastic look on her face.

"What are you, a nobleman or something?" she said with a mocking smirk.

The elf smiled kindly, looking back down on the ground. "Not really." He said, no intention of boasting about him being Dragonborn to whoever he met. "Just tell her you met me and I'm sure she'll overlook it."

The woman still looked puzzled, however. "Well what's your name, then?" she asked and he immediately realized he hadn't even bothered to ask her himself.

"Zekk", he told her, plain and simple.

"Only Zekk?"

At that he nodded, and she accepted his answer with standing up and putting her hands to her sides.

"Well then, Zekk. I'm Linnéa", the woman smiled, then changed into a serious face once more. "Could you help me lift this?"

Understanding she meant the carriage, he gladly walked over to it. After a few tries they managed to get the whole wooden build on its wheels, most of the food washed as clean as they could manage in the nearby crystal-clear river, and picking up the shards of bottles to stack the glass pieces in a basket. Zekk also managed to find Linnéa's lost horse, also brown, while she was lifting the stacked crates and boxes into the cart. When everything was about done, the sun had already crept lower in the sky but he reckoned it was long until evening yet. The woman thanked him once more, and stepped up to take a seat on the front of the carriage.

"You're heading that way?" she asked as the elf began turning around to walk up the hill.

"Only to get my horse", he explained, stopping.

"Well, get up!" she insisted. Upon seeing him hesitate, she gave him a look that straight out said 'are you serious'. At that, he agreed with a guilty smile and the girl seemed pleased to see him climb up to the seats beside her. "It's the least I can do, you know."

She took the reins and set the horse walking. The carriage wasn't exactly comfortable to sit in, Zekk realized and he wondered how the woman could stand it for so long.

"Are you always this helpful to complete strangers?" she asked once they started climbing the height. The elf only shook his shoulders. He didn't consider himself to be all good, reflecting back on all the choices in his life but he always felt compelled to help someone who needed it. If he could lend the help and they deserved it, wasn't it the obvious alternative? Even small things could make someone's day, and his as well.

He was actually surprised to see both his horse and his bag still near the stone structure when they finally reached the top and he hopped off the carriage as it was still moving, raising an arm to wave at the girl grinning as she drove away.

"It was nice meeting you, Zekk!" she shouted after him and he grinned in return, and then grabbed his bag to throw it over his back again, watching she turned and vanished behind the cliffs and pine trees. The elf sighed as the sound of wheels against rock faded.

So that was that.


End file.
